


Friends in Low places

by Rebekah_Zellers



Category: NCIS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 19:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16069328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebekah_Zellers/pseuds/Rebekah_Zellers
Summary: Tony's blood sugar is an on-going problem. It drops at the most inopportune times.





	Friends in Low places

Tony rubbed this throbbing head. A quick glance at the clock on his computer monitor told him exactly why; he needed to eat. Opening his desk drawer, he pulled the banana out and peeled it. Taking a bite, Tony chewed slowly, hoping to head off the potential disaster that was brewing. The banana wasn’t enough if his shaking hands and jelly feeling limbs were anything to go by; he needed real food. Tony had just managed to get back to his desk with a sandwich when the phone rang. He had only managed to eat half of it when the dreaded words came.

 

“Gear up,” Gibbs called out as he grabbed his badge and weapon from his desk.

 

Grabbing the can of soda along with his gear, Tony downed the beverage on his way to the elevator praying that the little bit of food he had managed along with the sugar would be enough to sustain him until he could get some more food. The walk to the car was a bit difficult the sugar not having had time to kick in yet.

 

“Today, DiNozzo.” Gibbs growled as he waited inside the sedan. Tony slid in behind him and closed his eyes; praying that the food and soda didn’t make a return trip as a casualty to Gibbs’ driving.

 

Adrenaline and luck were Tony’s companions at the scene; he had to push himself to keep upright as the hours ticked by. It was the wee hours of the morning before the evidence was collected. By the time they were headed back to the Navy Yard, Tony knew he was in trouble. The pounding of his heart, the shaking of his hands, as well as the headache along with the fact that he felt almost too weak to sit up straight.

 

"Boss," Tony called out shakily from the backseat.

 

"What," Gibbs growled harshly; his frustration and exhaustion having control of his emotions.

 

Shifting nervously, Tony softly asked his boss; "can we please stop and get something to eat?"

 

"We're almost to the Navy Yard," Gibbs snipped. "You can eat when your report is done."

 

Afraid to argue the point, Tony closed his eyes and allowed his head to rest against the window. He didn't feel good, but there was no way he was going to let Gibbs know. All logical reasoning was muddled in the confusion that went with his blood sugar being so low made it hard for him to string together any rational argument.

 

Looking in the rear-view mirror, Gibbs took in the sight of his agent. Tony appeared to be trembling, his coloring was off and he could see a fine sheen of perspiration over his face despite the coolness in the car.

 

"Tony," Gibbs called softly. His gut churned hard as he watched Tony seemingly struggle to focus only to be replaced by guilt when he listened to the slight slur of his agent’s words.

 

"Yeah?" Tony looked around confused blinking hard trying to clear the fog that had settled in his brain and vision.

 

"You okay?" Gibbs questioned with concern as he pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store.

 

Opening his mouth to answer, Gibbs, Tony was overcome by a wave of nausea and vomited all over himself before slumping sideways causing Gibbs to scramble from the car.

 

"McGee," Gibbs called in a panic. "Call Ducky and tell him to turn around."

 

Making his way to the backseat, Special Agent Gibbs crawled in. Easing Tony so that he wasn’t leaning against the door, Gibbs took his agent's pulse. "Easy Tony." Tony’s eyes fluttered as panic set in.

 

"Boss," Tony grasped at the man clumsily. "Need juice or candy bar."

 

“You have anything in your bag?” Reaching for the backpack, Gibbs growled when he came up empty. “You already used your emergency supply?” Gibbs leaned over the front seat to yell for McGee. "Go get me some orange juice and a candy bar." The other agent had gotten out of the car to get away from the smell of vomit while calling Ducky.

 

Running to the store, McGee complied, he should have realized that Tony was in trouble before he actually reached this point. He ran through the store grabbing juice, candy, cookies and a few other things that he had read might help.

 

Rooting through Tony's bag, Gibbs found the glucometer and made quick work of checking the man's blood sugar. “Going to see how low it is, Tony. Take it easy, DiNozzo. We’ll get you taken care of.”

 

"Jethro," Ducky called as he ran for the car. "What's the reading?"

 

"39," Gibbs growled. "Where's McGee with that damn juice?"

 

"Easy Jethro," Ducky scolded. "You'll scare Anthony; he’s already frightened. What happened Jethro?” Turning away from Gibbs before he could answer, Ducky looked for the one person he could count on to keep a level head. "Mr. Palmer," Ducky called to his associate. "Drive us closer to that bench."

 

Jimmy pulled the car closer to the front of the store meeting McGee as he came out with the requested items in hand. Pulling Tony from the car, Gibbs and McGee managed to get him to the nearby bench where the older agent coached Tony.

 

“Get that juice into him Jethro,” Ducky advised as he tried to assess his patient’s vital signs at the same time. There was a fine line when someone’s blood sugar was as low as Tony’s had plummeted.

 

"Come on, Tony." Gibbs said softly. "You need to drink this." Gibbs was on the verge of panic as the guilt started to needle at him. It was his fault that Tony’s blood sugar was so low. The dead marine wasn’t going anywhere; he should have given Tony a couple minutes to finish his sandwich and juice. He knew the risk to his agent; he should have kept a closer eye on him as the time ticked away while they were at the crime scene.

 

"Anthony," Ducky called softly as he sat next to the younger man. "I am going to check your blood sugar again; keep drinking."

 

"Ducky," Tony called out miserably. "Going to be sick."

 

Grabbing an empty evidence bag from the car, McGee held it out to Ducky. Holding the bag in place, Ducky watched as his patient choked, gagged and vomited into the bag.

 

"Mr. Palmer," Ducky called out in relief. "Find Anthony's kit in his bag," Ducky directed. "We need some glucose. Someone get him something of sustenance to eat.”

 

Locating the medication quickly, Palmer wasted no time in squeezing the gel into his patient's mouth. Exhausted, Tony sagged against Gibbs barely able to keep his eyes open. "Sorry, boss."

 

"Shh…," Gibbs said quietly. "Rest for a minute; let the gel work."

 

"I'll go get him something to eat," Jimmy said softly excusing himself to help his friend.

 

Rechecking his patient's blood sugar, Ducky sighed in relief as he noted the great improvement in the numbers. "How is the nausea now, Anthony?"

 

"Better," Tony mumbled. "I'm hungry."

 

With a smirk, Gibbs took the sandwich half from Palmer and helped Tony eat it. "Small bites, DiNozzo."

 

"The lad is going to need some rest," Ducky said softly as he pulled a stethoscope from around his neck. "I want him to go home, take a shower, and eat a real meal and sleep."

 

"He will," Gibbs reassured as he handed the juice to Tony. "Drink some more."

 

With a little time, Tony started to perk up and the fog he had been in lifted. Looking around, Tony blushed as he took in the worried faces of McGee, Ducky, Palmer and Gibbs. "Sorry," Tony whispered. "I…." Flustered, Tony pushed his way past everyone as he made his way into the car. Crawling in the back, the agent closed his eyes tightly and leaned against the seat.

 

“Tony?” Palmer opened the car door. “How about changing into a crime scene jump suit? Get out of those vomit covered clothes? I grabbed some baby wipes when I was in there; we can get you cleaned up a bit.” Palmer was so gentle with Tony that it was all the agent could do not to cry. Jimmy had proven to be a real friend over the course of time. “I grabbed you a soda to help settle your stomach. You want it?”

 

Tony nodded and allowed Palmer to help him steady the can as his hands were still shaky. “Thank you.” Tony’s eyes were closing as exhaustion was starting to settle in.

 

“You’re welcome; let’s get you home now. I think a shower and a good night’s sleep will fix you right up. I’ll stay with you tonight, just in case you need something.” Palmer checked Tony’s pulse before bagging his soiled clothing. “Rest.”

 

"McGee," Gibbs directed to the driver's seat. "I'm riding with DiNozzo; just get us home."

 

"On it boss," McGee agreed as he walked around to the driver's side. Sliding behind the wheel, Tim watched Tony in the rearview mirror. When Gibbs slid into the back, McGee noticed how stiff Tony's body became.

 

Before starting the car, Tim decided he needed to intervene so that Tony would rest. Popping the trunk, the younger man pulled a blanket from the confines of the trunk before closing it. Handing it to Gibbs, Tim smiled as he watched his boss cover up their friend.

 

"Tony," Gibbs called softly. "I'm sorry."

 

"Boss," Tony blinked in confusion.

 

"I should have realized you were in trouble," Gibbs gave a disheartened sigh. "You don't ask to stop and eat and I know about your condition. It was inexcusable."

 

Tony smiled brightly in an effort to break the tension. "I'll be fine," Tony reassured. "I will just cuff you on the back of your head the next time I need something and you don't listen."

 

"You better," Gibbs grumbled. "I don't like to see you sick; I really don't like to be the cause."

 

"You weren't the cause," Tony tried to reassure. "You did everything right; we're going home instead of the hospital."

 

"Still," Gibbs sighed. "I knew better and I let you down. We need a better system to make sure this doesn’t happen again. We’ll figure something out."

 

"I'm a borderline diabetic," Tony said with exasperation. "It's bound to happen again."

 

"Not on my watch," Gibbs stated bluntly. "You're one of mine and I take care of my own."

 

Tony knew there was no sense in arguing with the older agent. If the situation ever occurred again, Tony knew they'd revisit the same topic again. For now, he would just take comfort in knowing that in his own way…. Gibbs cared.


End file.
